Where are you roaming now my love, pray tell?
Now that sleek silver willows herald spring,
The snow has just retreated from the dell
And in the forest, winsome voices sing.
Upon the heath, sweet flowers soon will bloom
And naked trees will blush in sportive green,
Proud branches bow in wedding garb festooned,
To hold gloved hands ‘round ponds where swans convene.
Now is the time that love shall bless the land
As so it has from mystic days afore,
Bewitching thus broad fields in madness grand
Where loving hearts will dance and souls adore.
I dream of times when all the world was right…
As tearful memories blur and sting my sight.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.